


Empathy

by lil_robins



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: I didn't include some characters because it's a spoiler(?), M/M, Mental Link, Slow Burn, bruce learns to open up to Clark and show his soft side, clark cares for bruce, freaky friday AU, so gay tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:29:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_robins/pseuds/lil_robins
Summary: The League wasn't quite sure how it happened. A simple mission to stop Klarion, the witch boy seemed to turn their world upside down. Because now, a god that emanates light and a man who is vengeance in the night, stood in front of a stunned Diana, Hal, Arthur and Barry.But not as themselves.





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> HEAVILY EDITED. I basically made the first chapter the second and added two more.

Clark hated this.

Long ago did he learn how to tune out all the noises that overwhelming penetrated his thoughts, an ability he would normally thank this earth’s yellow sun for. Sometimes, when he was anxious and tired, and didn’t have the energy to focus, it was impossible to pick one sound to focus on. It was all too much, too loud. 

This wasn’t one of those times.

Come on, Kal. He tried to console himself. There were ugly grunts that suggested the loss of innocence and people yelling at pedestrians as they sped along the boulevards. Clark heard children crying themselves to sleep.

There were thousands, no millions of heartbeats, thumping in a chaotic order with varying paces.

Clark took a deep breath.

It was the same as any other night. There were no major League plans that would take place tomorrow, no villainous plot to thwart. There was no reason he shouldn’t be able to sleep.

The only difference was he needed the noise. Something, anything, that would distract him. He couldn’t ignore the other anguishing noises because even a city away, all he could hear was him. 

Across the bay, Bruce was having a nightmare. 

Clark grunted and flipped over on his bed. He had closed all the windows from the hot Metropolis summer, turned on a fan, and covered his head with his pillow in hopes of silencing the sounds that anguished him. 

But why was he anguished? He shouldn’t care so much about Bruce. He was just a work colleague.

Just a work colleague.

But God… he was so loud. 

How long do dreams last? How long had Bruce been tossing through the sheets with his sweat dripping down? His heart beat like a hammer and Clark couldn't take it anymore.

Clark reached aside and unlocked his phone. 3:47. It had been two and a half hours since Bruce came back from his relatively short patrol. After all, it had been a slow night for Clark, so it must have been a slow night for Bruce.  

Not for the first time he wrestled down the urge to fly over and wake the man. He knew from experience that was the wrong move.  
Bruce had a nightmare usually roughly once a month.

“Please” Bruce gasped into the pillow. “Please be-”

It was the bad kind too.

No. They were all bad. But this… this was the worst kind.

Some nights Bruce would growl and lash out, some nights he would just lie impossibly still; only his heart and the strange smell of his sweat betraying his terror, and some nights… nights like this one… he would curl up into a ball and shake.

Sometimes he’d also cry.

Sometimes he’d also talk.

He was doing both tonight.

“-alive… you have to be-”

Maybe if he moved fast he could wake Bruce up and disappear before he opened his eyes.

“Please…” 

A new feeling arose in Clark’s chest. It radiated under his ribcage and spread like shattered glass. What was happening, Clark didn’t know. To him or to Bruce. 

“I… have to be… enough…”

Maybe Bruce wouldn’t mind this time. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if Clark took a quick trip to Gotham and nudged him awake.

“…alive… I… have to… please… I need to be…”

But that’d be creepy right? Surely Bruce would think that it was creepy Clark was so focused on him. 

But they’re just colleagues...

“…enough!”

Bruce jerked upright and Clark gratefully sighed. The prospect of flying to Gotham was too much, not to mention even crawling out of his bed or pajamas, and into his suit. Clark focused in on the billionaire and heard him get up to turn on a shower. Slowly, Bruce's heart calmed and his breathing steadied. The saltiness of sweat and tears rinsed down the drain as Bruce curled up on the shower floor, his head resting on his knees. 

Clark didn't want to be able to hear Bruce's struggles, but the nightmares were normally short lived and infrequent. He was able to put it behind him and forget, never mentioning it to him or finding the need to comment how he was concerned about Bruce's wellbeing. 

But this was the fourth one in a week, and Clark knew something was terribly wrong. 


	2. What Now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda short, sorry :)

The League wasn't quite sure how it happened. A simple mission to stop Klarion, the witch boy seemed to turn their world upside down. It should have been easy, the kids could have felt with it for god’s sake. But now, a god that emanates light and a man who is vengeance in the night, stood in front of a stunned Diana, Hal, Arthur and Barry.

And not as themselves. 

Clark, no Bruce, was looking down at his newly inhabited body, his hands trembling. Not once had any of them seen Bruce show weakness like this. But it was understandable. He was a human being, not a meta, with no special ability, now in the body of a Kryptonian, who could melt steel with his eyes. 

And Clark was smiling, an odd disposition to see the body of the dark knight hold. It seemed funny to him to be honest. Although trying to keep a strong front, his emotion began to falter. Something was off, besides the obvious, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. 

Barry couldn't wait to tell Oliver. He'd get a kick out of this. 

They were all stunned, completely unaware of what to do. "Has the boy said anything yet?" Arthur asked, no one in particular. Diana nodded her head to the monitor in for the of the group, which played the live feed from the interrogation room. There, the witch boy sat, with a feline curled up in his lap, both seemingly content despite their current situation. Barry swore he could hear him humming, even.

"Earlier I heard him say something to the cat about how 'time will tell' so whatever he has done must be temporary." She explained. “I honestly don’t know his motive, but we won’t talk. I suggest we wait until morning.”

"So we don't know how long?" Bruce asked, his gaze finally off the body he inhabited. Diana shook her head. They all stood there in silence.

"Well, I for one, loved Freaky Friday." Hal commented. They all laughed, desperate to break the awkward silence, Arthur a little too hard. Except Clark couldn't laugh, because he finally sensed what was bothering him. His entire body, well Bruce's to be more accurate, ached. Clark became aware of soreness in all of his muscles, stinging pain tingling around what he could only assume to be numerous gashes and cuts covering Bruce's body. 

While Clark was overwhelmed with pain, Bruce was getting a headache. The noise was all too much, too loud. His ears were ringing and his eyes stung. Fists formed at his sides. Heartbeats. Focus, he told himself. He could hear seven. After tuning out his own, he attempted to determine each one. He assumed that's Klarion's was softest as he was the farthest away. Barry's had to be the fastest, while Diana's, Arthur's and Hal's all beat at a steady pace, fairly content despite the odd scenario which surrounded them. And the last was Clark's- or well, it was his own heart. He was listening to his own heart beat which occupied the body that didn't contain his consciousness. Now he was really dizzy. 

"I'm gonna go to bed," the two said simultaneously. The departed in opposite ways. 

“Goodnight?” Arthur said quizzically. 

"Dude, you would not believe what just happened," was the last thing they heard Barry say before slamming the doors of their rooms in the watchtower. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for fluff and angst


	3. Sleepless Part II

Bruce peeled off the skin tight navy blue suit. This has to be a dream. I mean, no way this is real. His movements stopped the suit at his hips as he silently prayed Clark didn’t go commando. 

Oh thank god.

He blushed at his childishness. I mean, he was gonna have to go to the bathroom eventually. But awkwardness in having to hold his friend’s-

Nope, not going there.

Bruce quickly opened his dresser drawer and pulled out his favorite pair of gray sweatpants, hoping to find some familiarity in their slightly worn out texture. He laid down on the bed. All his other worries floating away, Gotham was floating away. And then the noise started again. The machines that powered the watch tower buzzed away. The sound of pipes and running water. He wondered if he should have just sneaked out of the tower. Diana demanded neither of them left the tower until this whole matter was resolved. It would keep them from dealing with the complicated details of the other’s lives, plus Clark and Bruce were not one to argue with Diana. But there was so much Bruce had to do at home, he couldn't possibly stay here indefinitely. And god this noise. It was too much. Too much. Bruce’s breathing quickened and he sat up. With a burst of anxiety, and turned around and punched the steel wall, a common stress reliever for him, and Alfred could attest to this. But that of course, was Bruce Wayne. Not Bruce Wayne in Clark Kent’s body. And this little “punch” left a hole the size of a fist into the storage closet next door. 

And then he found himself here, outside Clark’s door, to ask for-

He didn’t know what exactly.

Help? Comfort?

Bruce listened closely and heard the shuffling of feet. So Clark was awake too. Bruce opened the door and found Clark, similarly dressed in only red plaid pajama bottoms, standing in front of a floor length mirror. 

“I’m sorry I should have knocked.” Bruce apologized after Clark had turned around to face the man. Bruce shut the door lightly.

“You heard me walk,” Clark responded with a knowing smile. “You knew I was awake.” It was difficult to know when he was intruding. Guilt often consumed Clark when he heard personal details in others’ conversations, but it was hard to control. He understood Bruce. 

“Yeah. It seems like no one else is and- Why were you standing in the mirror?” Bruce’s mind switched subjects as he reevaluated the scene he interrupted.

Clark turned back around, unable to meet his gaze. "I heard rumors that you were covered in them.” His hand stroked one of scars which littered his body. Some were dark and plump, newly inflicted, while older ones blended into the skin more. They showed a lifetime of pain. “I guess I should have taken them at face value." 

"It's nothing,” Bruce said mechanically after a slight pause.

"You're broken," Clark responded. Bruce gulped the confrontation down. He looked at his body, really looked at it and realized how damaged he was. The Dark Knight of Gotham, a battered man.

“You could’t sleep?” Clark sensed the awkwardness and attempted to change the subject. “It’s the noises, isn’t it? It’s too much.” 

"Yeah." Bruce was never one for many words.

"You know in elementary school, I broke down in the middle of class. I couldn't take the voices anymore. I thought I was going insane, didn’t know what was happening to me." The two sat down on the edge of Clark’s bed, hands outstretched for balance, finger tips just inches away. The men stared at the the wall in front of them.

"How'd you get past it?"

"Time. And my Dad. He helped me a lot, even though he didn't know what was happening either." Clark reminisced his late father. The second father he lost. 

“So you’re telling me I just have to get used to all if this?” Bruce signaled to himself, a slight smirk appearing. Clark took it as a compliment and smiled back. 

“Picking one sound helps. Find one thing, and put all your energy on listening to it. Everything else just fades away.” Clark made a dispersing motion with his hands. Bruce nodded and stood up. He made his way towards the door and turned to close it.

“Try two aspirins.” Bruce said with a smile, already aware of the soreness he feels on a daily basis. It was a curious sensation without it.

“Goodnight, Bruce.” Clark said with a nod.

“Goodnight, Clark.”

In his bed, Bruce found that it was Clark’s heartbeat which finally lulled him to sleep. A steady beat in this chaotic day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the update. Please leave comments and suggestions on what you want to see. I love feedback :)


	4. The Sun Also Rises

“Just move, Barry!” Bruce yelled. “I need to go!” The hand on Bruce’s chest was wavering and Barry would be lying if he said he wasn’t somewhat scared of Kryptonian powered billionaire at this moment.

“Bruce, you know I can’t do that.” Barry replied, his voice slightly shaking.

Three days. It had been three days and Bruce could not take it anymore. He had to get back to Gotham. He had to.

“Calm down Bruce.” Clark’s hand delicately gripped Bruce’s shoulder.

Diana said it should only be a few hours, but had been three days. And Bruce needed to go home.

“I can’t I- I have to go, I need to.” Bruce’s heartbeat echoed in his ears. “I need to go.” He looked frantically between Barry and Clark, hoping for a shred of understanding.

Clark noticed his struggle. Bruce Wayne was having… a panic attack? No his eyes had to be deceiving him. “Give us a minute, Barry.” The boy sped away with relief, happy that Bruce didn’t disintegrate him.

“Hey.” Clark turned Bruce to face him, but he refused to meet Clark’s eyelid. He moved his hands on either side of Bruce’s neck, and steadied his shaking head with his thumbs on his jawline. “Hey, just breathe.” Clark smiled lightly, the corners of his mouth leading Bruce’s eyes up to meet Clark’s. The moment was delicate. Everything slowed down for Bruce as he looked into the bright eyes of an optimist, glinted with light from the rising sun. For a while, the two just stood there in the corridor of the watchtower. The light from the yellow star heated the slate gray walls, signaling the start of a new day. It was Bruce that broke the moment, looking down to the floor as he could no longer meet Clark’s piercing gaze. The look of concern on Clark’s face hadn’t wavered as his hands dropped from Bruce’s face. Bruce’s eyes were red rimmed. He had been crying. Bruce Wayne, the billionaire playboy by day, and the world’s greatest detective by night, had been crying. Sure, it had been a somewhat strange few days, and out of all people, Clark could understand. Ollie’s jokes were getting old and Hal had called Bruce Lindsey Lohan -at least- three times a day. But none of this would have normally phased Bruce. Plus he still had the nightmares. Even though he couldn’t hear them, Clark knew Bruce still had them. He barely looked well-rested. And this was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“You need to tell me what’s wrong.” He demanded, yet his tone was drenched with compassion. Clark walked the line beautifully. Bruce opened his mouth, but Clark interrupted, “None of this ‘nothing is wrong’ crap either. Tell me.” He crossed his arms as Bruce readjusted his stance.

“Clark,” Bruce shook his head slightly.

“Bruce,” Clark rebutted. Bruce huffed sharply between his teeth as he turned his head to look out the observation deck window. Right now, the watchtower was floating over a large expanse of water, probably the Pacific.  
“I know something is wrong. You haven’t been sleeping, not in the past week at least, despite not having to go out for patrol…” Clark took a moment to breathe. He looked at Bruce, really looked at him. The body of Clark Kent was barely recognizable. The skin over his entire body was dry and rough. Those ultramarine eyes had lost their luster and underneath them sat dark circles which were the closest this body had ever come to showing bruises. “For god’s sake you’ve been crying, I could hear it in Metropolis.”

Bruce took a shallow breath, choosing not to deny the accusation. He understood now the range of Clark’s abilities, and he knew Clark would be able to hear him from across the bay. Bruce turned it head back towards Clark, before completely falling apart into his chest. Bruce collapsed into Clark’s warm core. For a moment, Clark was stunned. But he didn’t hesitate to grip on to Bruce, whose arms wrapped around Clark’s neck. Thank god he did, or else Bruce would have fallen onto the matte steel beneath them. Clark didn’t know what to say. So he just held him. Eventually, the two floated down to sit. Bruce was shaking in his arms, his tears soaking Clark’s white cotton shirt. The scent of petrichor filled Bruce’s lungs. Clark was rich and earthy, emanating the smell after a summer rain storm. His scent comforted him. It was the kind of smell you would never forget. It was like the one that lingered from his father while they watched Excalibur, when Bruce buried his head into his father's embrace, before asking to leave. Before walking down that ally. Before he was shot right in front of him. Bruce’s grip tightened with the memory. 

Clark took a deep breath with Bruce’s newly compressed grasp, and closed his eyes. Soap, leather, and expensive single-malt scotch melted into his nose. Even up here, millions of feet above civilization, the man smelled like money. Clark’s warm gaze laid upon the anxious man as the sun continued to rise, and they held onto each other so tight, almost as if they hadn't, they'd lose the other forever.


	5. Half a World Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins.

It was finally time. Diana had assured the men that only time would solve their unique struggle so they might as well leave the watchtower. Besides both having a terrible case of cabin fever, Bruce had important business at Wayne Enterprises to handle as CEO and Clark wasn’t sure how much longer Perry would wait before firing him. They needed to go home. 

A lot of planning ensued from the decision to leave the watchtower. Bruce made a file of all the board members he meets with as well as clients that Clark might see on this escapade. Clark found it very helpful that Bruce color coded each page and made a mental note to tease Bruce about his particular stationary habits later. Maybe a pack of fancy highlighters for Christmas-

“Are you even listening to me?” The smile that had made its way unconsciously onto Clark’s face grew into a full cheshire grin in a way to apologise. But his demeanor changed into a more caring one once he saw Bruce’s stressed appearance. He was taking this very seriously.

“You need to calm down. Everything will be fine and I’ll handle it all. Besides how difficult could the life of a billionaire playboy vigilante be?” Clark responded in a chuckled and placed a friendly hand on Bruce’s shoulder. But rather than tense as Clark expected, Bruce relaxed under Clark’s touch. He was the only other person who could possibly understand what he was going through. Their eyes met. Clark may not know the whole truth, but still, his presence helped.

“By Hera, are you two boys done yet? You said you were leaving twenty minutes ago!” Diana teased as she entered the room. Bruce moved his shoulder from Clark’s grasp unnoticeably, to Diana at least.

“We were just finishing up some final touches.” Bruce turned around and brought a subtle smile to his face. “Our lives are complex enough and now we both have to pretend to be yet another person.”

“Well I’m sure you two will be fine. It can’t be too long now.” Diana smiled fondly. She had become increasingly caring towards the both of the men recently. A feeling Clark enjoyed but Bruce was suspicious of. 

“Just don’t get me fired, Wayne. Not all of us can afford losing our jobs,” Clark tried to joke, although he was still off-put by Bruce’s quick change in demeanor. Maybe he just wanted the league to only see his tough side? But Diana was apart of the trinity, she worked with Bruce to form the league in the first place. Why would Bruce want to hide his true self from her? 

“That might require him to actually leave the watchtower. Both of you, now.” Diana walked in between the two and walked them towards the zeta-tubes, a hand on each of the shoulders in a grip much too might for Clark’s newly found mortal body. “You’ve been moping around here for too long.”

“I just have to-” Bruce began.

“Go.” She glared them down with a smile as if she was innocent. “Now.” The machines started up to bring each man to their perspective city. Clark and Bruce looked at each other in desperation before Bruce found himself across the bay from where he was royalty seconds later. The air felt warm and fresh, something that, no matter the advancements in technology, the watchtower could never reciprocate. He took a deep breath in and walked out of the old phone booth in the back of an ally. As he walked onto the sidewalk, he noticed the sun was brighter in Metropolis. He adjusted the thick black frames of his glasses. Bruce grunted as a woman pushed into his side abruptly. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! That’s my bad,” She smiled warming as she continued down the bustling sidewalk. 

“Um… that’s okay, ” Bruce stated as more of a question. People were nice here. He didn’t care much for it. Putting it behind him, Bruce saw a large skyscraper with “Daily Planet” written at the top. He began his journey down the block. Then it all started to become too much for him. It was all so loud. Then he remembered Clark’s voice guiding him. “Focus on one thing. Everything else just fades away.” Bruce closed his eyes tight as the sounds quieted down. He continued his way inside the building. Once he was there, he scanned a ID Clark had given him earlier which allowed him to go inside the elevators. The people already there greeted as he joined them. Bruce placed a courteous smile on his face and nodded. He had been faking his eccentric playboy character to the press for years. This would be easy. At least he told himself that.The doors opened onto the 34th floor. Immediately, Bruce heard yelling.

“WHY ON GOD’S GREEN EARTH WOULD ANYONE READ A STORY ABOUT KIDNEY DIALYSIS ROBERT? IS THIS A JOKE? THE INDUSTRY IS ALREADY DYING DO YOU THINK THIS WILL HELP?”

Bruce looked around at all the people sitting at their cubicles typing away. The sounds of phones ringing and chatter filled the air. Hesitantly, he made his way towards the noise in the conference room.

“AND FOR THE LAST TIME, WHERE IS KENT?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who finally updated! And it only took two months! Yeah... sorry about that. Besides AP exams and finals, I had a major case of writers block even though I have a outline for this fic's plot. I wrote this at 3 AM before father's day because I couldn't sleep and suddenly I felt inspired. You know how it is. Sorry if its incoherent trash at parts since it's the middle of the night. Anyway, thanks for all the love! Leave comments for any suggestion of what you might like to see!!


	9. Author's Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> don't worry i'm not abandoning it, perse

hello readers. thank you so much to those who have stuck around and left inspiring comments for me. I'm so sorry for making you all wait over a year for an update. the truth is life got crazy and busy. I lost track of time and eventually, this story fell to the background. reading it now, I can't help but think I could've done better. so, I've decided to rewrite it (sorry). you can find the first chapter [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15444258/chapters/35848581) thank you all so much for your support. have a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this on the plane because I was bored. I'm just gonna apologize now because with ap exams and finals, I can tell you updates will be irregular and infrequent but who knows honestly. I'm a master procrastinator.


End file.
